


Better to Leave

by queenpenthesilea



Series: Endgame Doesn't Mean 'The End' [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Depression, F/M, I need a hug, M/M, Multi, Multiverse, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, multiship fic bc the timelines will do what they want, seriously what am I doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:23:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenpenthesilea/pseuds/queenpenthesilea
Summary: Two warnings: 1) This work contains Endgame spoilers! read at your own risk! and 2) The first part of this series has a twist that will definitely be spoiled, both if you read this summary and if you read this work first. If you intend to read part one and don't want a major spoiler, I recommend you stop reading this summary now :)One-shots from the Two More Miracles AU - this work is specifically one-shots that are outtakes of the multiverses WHILE the Original!Tony was in that universe figuring out how to kick Thanos's ass! So these are all the multiverses pre-fix-it for that world!!Ch 1: Tony was retired from the Avengers.





	Better to Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! So this is a copy-paste of the note before the OTHER outtakes fic I posted (part 2 of the series). This might be a slightly long note - this is mostly intended to explain the organization in order to prevent confusion, so feel free to skip it if you don't care or don't need the explanation!!
> 
> So here's the way I'm going to try to do this - this is the first of 3 spin-off fic collections. The three fic collections are going to be 1) the other timelines AFTER Original!Tony has left; 2) the other timelines WHILE original Tony is there fixing things; and 3) the original timeline once Original!Tony gets back.
> 
> With the first two collections, I'll try to make it clear which timeline they're in by keeping a list of the timelines here in the notes of chapter 1 and telling you in the chapter summaries which timeline is being used. Some of the timelines have been getting multiple requests that won't fit in 1 one-shot, so those may end up in more than one chapter!
> 
> Alright, so without further adieu, here are the timelines:
> 
> Timeline #1 - Tony's original timeline from the Endgame movie.
> 
> Timeline #2 - the timeline written in Two More Miracles.
> 
> Timeline #3 - the timeline where Pepper and Morgan both died referenced in TMM.
> 
> Timeline #4 - the timeline where Pepper married Happy and had boy!Morgan, and Tony and Steve married referenced in TMM.
> 
> Timeline #5 - the timeline where Steve died in Wakanda referenced in TMM.
> 
> Timeline #6 - the timeline where Loki stole the Tesseract and disappeared from the Endgame movie.
> 
> Timeline #7 - (not referenced anywhere) a timeline where Tony had retired after CACW.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline #7 - the Tony of this world had retired post-CACW, and the Original!Tony needs to figure out a way to defeat Thanos anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!! So I want to put out two warnings at the beginning of this chapter:
> 
> 1) this one shot is very VERY Team Iron Man – there _is_ Team Cap bashing, and a _lot_ of feels. I’m warning you guys upfront because the first work in this series was Stony, so I know some of you might be looking for that dynamic. This specific one shot will NOT be that kind of dynamic. So sorry for anyone whose hopes were up – I honestly got super anti-Stony after Civil War, and then Endgame just brought back a ton of Stony feels, so my ability to write that ship varies, and I made the mistake of re-watching Civil War earlier this week and got all pissy. So this fic happened.
> 
> 2) **please please PLEASE pay attention to this warning**. This chapter has descriptive mentions of depression and a couple of brief references to thoughts of suicide. Please, if you don’t think that’s something you should be reading, DO NOT read it. Leave me a comment on a fic you’d like to read instead or something. Take care of yourselves.
> 
> Warnings are over, you can proceed to the fic if you still want to!!! The rest of this note is just me explaining further.
> 
> This fic is a little darker than the ones I’ve posted before. Tbh, as I’ve mentioned mostly jokingly to people in the comments, I use writing as a therapy/outlet of sorts, and I had a bad week. I decided to go ahead and share this for anyone out there who gets bitter about CACW still, or who honestly?? just needs to read a fic where someone’s going through some mental shit and still comes out on top at the end. Rest assured that not all the fics in this series will be bitter or character bashy!!!

After 35 million years and over 9 million lives, you’d think he was done being surprised – by this point, he’d been dropped into worlds where he’d been everything from an undercover SHIELD operative in “Stane” Industries, to ones where he was in a polyamorous relationship with Steve _and_ Bucky, to ones where he was a woman (and Lord, _those_ had been some particularly interesting and… _eye-opening_ ones. He’d made a mental note to praise Pepper particularly fervently for being able to put up with all the male chauvinists in the business world when he got home). But he’d had found that, if there was one constant amongst every timeline he’d visited, it was that Tony Stark was nothing if not unpredictable.

Still, it was honestly a bit of a shock to find out that he was _retired_ in the universe he was headed to. 

“Wait, I’m _what_?” he asked, eyebrows raising, and the stones nodded in sync, which would never not be creepy.

“In this timeline, you have retired as Iron Man. You no longer wear the suit,” Carol confirmed. The Power stone had started taking her form periodically, which Tony that was rather fitting; Carol was a hell of a powerhouse, there was absolutely no denying that. The stones seemed to like to assume shapes based on the personalities and importance of his friends and family in whatever universe he’d just left, from what he’d been able to tell, though they’d only smirked at him when he’d asked outright. He still wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

“Okay,” Tony said, brow furrowed as he tried to process that. “So, I guess my first question is when? And why? And did I give it to someone else? And what do I do for a job or hobby now? Also how the fuck am I supposed to beat Thanos if I’m retired?”

Morgan chuckled, glowing with the gold of the Soul stone, who had seemed to latch onto his daughter’s form in recent millennia. “That is more than one question, Tony Stark, but we will answer as much as we can,” she responded, eyes flashing amusedly. It had taken a couple million years, but the stones had finally started to loosen up around him. He was pretty sure they actually found him entertaining now – hell, he might even say they were friends.

He was friends with the infinity stones. And that was the _second_ weirdest realization (to him) of the day.

“You retired after what your world dubbed the ‘Civil War’,” Morgan continued, then hesitated, and Tony braced himself for bad news. He’d been doing this long enough that he knew when the stones were about to tell him something he wouldn’t like. “It appears everything up through the Civil War happened very similarly to how it had happened in your original world with a few exceptions – instead of being coupled with Pepper Potts, you and Steve Rogers had been engaged when the Accords were introduced to the Avengers. And, in the battle at the airport in Leipzig, when James Rhodes fell, he…he did not survive.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Shit,” he whispered, heart sinking.

“Indeed,” Vision, the current guise of the Mind stone, said gravely. “We believe the reason for your counterpart’s retirement to be an overwhelming amount of grief. He was not able to be there when James Rhodes passed as he was in Siberia.”

“Oh god,” Tony choked out, chest hurting on his counterpart’s behalf. “And I’m guessing Steve hadn’t…?”

“No, he had not,” Morgan confirmed gently, and Tony gritted his teeth, wishing fervently that he could skip this world – because he could see exactly why he’d retired in this world. If he’d just been betrayed and left for dead by his _fiancé_ and been unable to apologize to his best friend for dragging him into his mess before Rhodey had _died_ because he’d been busy finding out his parents had been _murdered_?

Yeah, retiring was the _well-adjusted_ response to all of that of the ones that popped into his head. And he was about to be thrust into the middle of that – and he knew from experience that he’d feel the weight of his counterpart’s feelings and emotions. The stones had insisted that it was necessary for Tony to feel what his counterpart felt so that he would make the choices that his other self would have made, and Tony got that, he did – but Lord, it was hard sometimes. Especially if he’d just spent several years in a world where he was close with one person only to find them dead in the next universe, and especially in worlds like this where those who’d betrayed him had done so anew. 

But there was no getting around it – this world needed him to step up, and he would do what had to be done.

“Alright. Alright, I’m ready,” he said, steeling himself and meeting the stones’ eyes firmly. He was met with smiles tinged with sadness and respect, and the stones raised their hands and everything went dark.

 

It was worse than he’d imagined.

So much worse.

God, he didn’t think he’d experienced depression this inset in a _long, long time_.

He wasn’t sure he could do it.

He wasn’t sure if he was mentally strong enough to handle this pain, this stabbing sensation behind his sternum where the love of his life had pierced him with the shield his own father had fashioned, and Tony couldn’t say for certain whether he meant that entirely in a physical or a metaphorical sense. 

It was too much.

It was _too much_.

He wanted out, he wanted out, _he wanted out, oh god_.

How had this world’s Tony stood it for so long? How had he not just – just – made it stop? What was left for him? Steve was gone, the team was gone, _Rhodey was gone in a way that could never be fixed_. Pepper was distant, Vision had gone to Wanda, Bruce was in the wind, and there was no Morgan in this world – what was left?

The stones would let him out if he wanted out. They’d be disappointed, but he knew they’d understand. They’d told him so many times that this was too much for one person, that they were amazed he’d made it this far – they’d let him out if he wanted out, and he could just move onto the next world. Saving 14,000,604 worlds was still _so many_ \- it was enough, right? _Right?_

But no. _No_. The Tony of this world had fought through this, had been living with this pain, and Tony would not punish his stronger self by leaving this world to ruin because _he_ wasn’t strong enough to handle this. He would stay, he would handle this ache, for the Tony who had been dealing with it for the two years after the Civil War had ended, for the billions, trillions, _more_ of innocents that were spread across this universe who didn’t deserve to die just because he didn’t want to feel this agony.

He would do this. 

He opened his eyes.

“Good morning, Boss. It is 7:47 a.m. on Wednesday, April 28th, 2018. You are in your home in Malibu. The weather outside is cloudy, and there is a chance of rain later in the day.” FRIDAY’s familiar voice was a comfort, soothing some of the torrential waves of pain in his chest. She continued to chatter at him about his itinerary for the day as he sat up, the other Tony’s memories settling in like a warm blanket. If that blanket weighed a thousand pounds and made him want to dive into the ocean and refuse to resurface for air, that is. 

He let himself absorb the memories, notable pieces popping up in front of his eyes like a slideshow – arguing with Steve after the Battle of New York, kissing Steve for the first time on the roof of Avengers Tower – for it had been Avengers Tower then – Steve asking him to marry him in the gazebo outside the restaurant where they had their first date while he tearfully teased Steve about being a cliché old man, Rhodey smiling and clapping him on the back but telling him to be careful with a worried, knowing glint in his eye, Pepper telling him she was proud of him for becoming someone _Captain America_ would look at, uneasily standing over his father’s grave with Pepper’s words ringing in his ears and sounding as though they echoed the sentiments of a man buried six feet under as Tony confessed his upcoming nuptials and thought that maybe, _maybe_ , he’d become someone his dad would have cared for.

Searching for a way to fix the strain in that relationship after Ultron. Receding from the group and hiding the hurt when they didn’t bother to stop him. Throwing himself into his charity organizations only to be unable to escape the horrors of the damage the Avengers wrought. Arguing over the Accords with Steve in private after Ross brought the information to the team, Steve stubbornly arguing they couldn’t trust anything Ross said. Arguing that he, Tony, wasn’t asking Steve to trust Ross, but instead was asking Steve _do you trust me_. Recoiling when Steve had just looked at him, derision clear on his face, and questioned how he could even ask that with a straight face after Ultron, after he’d proven so clearly that _Tony Stark wasn’t hero material_. 

Looking at his fiancé – ex-fiancé – across the airport and wondering when he’d started looking into the imperfectly blue eyes of a stranger. Pulling his punches and not being treated with the same courtesy. Rhodey falling, falling, _falling out of the sky, oh god, he wasn’t stopping, please let him be okay_ , but Natasha had already decided only Steve got any lenience when he refused to stop. Listening as the doctor said there was nothing more they could do, the damage was too extensive, _we’re sorry, Mr. Stark, Mr. Rhodes is gone – It’s Colonel Rhodes – What?- It’s Colonel Rhodes, not Mr. Rhodes, he’s, he was –_ he was gone and there was nothing Tony could do to bring him back. 

Hurting, breaking, _dying_ inside and going to the Raft anyway, pushing himself forward because he knew Rhodey wouldn’t want him to leave their friends in an unsanctioned, cruel prison just to sate his own anger and grief. Going after Steve and Barnes, terrified that he’d be losing one of the only other people he’d allowed to really _know_ him. 

Wishing he hadn’t.

God, how he’d wished he hadn’t.

Looking up at those imperfect blue eyes as the shield was poised over his chest and hoping it was the last thing he’d ever see because he was _done_.

Opening his eyes in a hospital three weeks later and laying there numbly, refusing to respond to anyone, hoping that maybe if he was quiet enough, still enough, _dead enough inside_ , it would become his outside. Going home eventually when that didn’t pan out. Speaking at Rhodey’s funeral, the words dropping out of his mouth mechanically, emptily, because there was _nothing_ he could say that could describe the greatness of Colonel James Rhodes. 

Those memories – they were painful, but they were _bright_ in their ache. It was the memories _after_ that horrific funeral that were truly disturbing to Tony. 

Because those? Those were so _dull_ , so devoid of feeling or emotion, so nearly devoid of life in the way that his other self had wanted to be just weeks earlier, that it was _frightening_. Those memories were empty and hollow, the sting of betrayal and agony of Rhodey’s death still there but duller, in a way that felt like they’d burrowed in his chest deeper than the arc reactor and were pressing into him, slowly suffocating him from the inside. He’d been empty, but he’d still been hurting, and he’d been grateful for the pain because he deserved it. He deserved it for what he’d done.

Ross had called him, as Tony had known he would when Rogers (because he was Rogers now, there was no changing that ever again) broke the others out of the Raft. He’d called him, yelling that Tony had better get his worthless ass over to the Raft _right now_ and start rounding the Rogues up. 

Tony had let him rant for a while, saying absolutely nothing until Ross finally lapsed into a confused and suspicious silence. “Well? Are you headed over, Stark?” he’d demanded after a moment.

“No,” Tony had replied simply.

“No? _No?_ You don’t _get_ to tell me no, not unless _you_ want to end up here, boy!”

Once, those words would have made him angry. Once, they’d have made him tired. Now? Now, he didn’t feel anything. He knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn’t a hero. And that made it all the easier. “I’m retired,” Tony had responded.

There had been a resounding silence. “Excuse me?” Ross had asked, his voice low and dangerous. It hadn’t elicited fear in Tony; it hadn’t elicited anything.

“I’m retired,” he’d repeated. “I turned in my notice to the Accords council this morning.”

“What the _fuck_ do you mean you’re – “ Ross had started to screech, but Tony’d had other projects to work on and hadn’t thought it a good use of his time to listen to Ross yell at him over something that wouldn’t be changed.

“Please don’t call here again,” Tony had said without inflection, and he’d hung up. Ross had called back, of course. Tony had asked FRIDAY to block his number. 

The press had been the next part that he’d had to handle, and it had been more of an annoyance than anything. Everyone had been outraged that he’d retired, of course; it figured that they were angry with him when the Avengers were operational, and they were angry with him when the Avengers weren’t. He could never win, but that was always how it had been. So they said bad things about him, but they always had, and he was far beyond caring. They couldn’t say anything about him that he hadn’t already thought about himself, that he hadn’t known with the utmost certainty that he deserved. 

Eventually, though, eventually they had pushed too hard. He’d held a press conference to discuss the newest StarkWare he’d designed, three months after Siberia, two months after retiring, an eternity since he’d last heard his Rhodey’s voice. Predictably, though, the press had wanted to focus their questions on the juicier topic. He’d fielded their questions about the Avengers well enough for a time, directing their attention back to the actual purpose of the conference with the skill of someone who’d done this too many times to count. But eventually, his patience wore thin, and his hurt, fury, betrayal, _confusion_ burst forth when one of the journalists phrased her question particularly poorly.

“Do you not feel like it’s a disgrace to Colonel Rhodes’s memory to run away from your duties and responsibilities to the people of the world like a coward? Especially since that world is _begging_ you to come back and defend it?” she’d sneered, and he’d stared at her, silent for long enough that the room started fidgeting uncomfortably, that the journalist started to lose some of her edge. He’d stared at her and thought about what he wanted to say, then waited to feel worry about what the press and the public would think, waited to feel fear that the public would vilify him, waited to feel _anything_. He didn’t. So he’d spoken.

“What do you know about James Rhodes?” Tony had asked finally, his voice quiet and all trace of the magnanimous, ostentatious persona drained away as he looked at the young woman, who was looking more and more uncertain.

“I – that’s not the question,” she’d deflected, and Tony had only watched her and waited. She’d lapsed into silence, mute and glancing at her neighbors for help, but they’d studiously avoided her eyes, and he’d eventually decided to put her out of her misery.

“He was my first real friend,” Tony had said finally, and his voice had been so catastrophically _empty_ that some of the journalists had flinched. “I’d called others ‘friend’ before him, but I always knew there was something they wanted out of me. Rhodey was the first one to be my friend just for me. And for all the years after that, he was still there for _me_ , and not for any other reason, even though he could’ve easily used me to get ahead in his military career back when I was the primary weapons contractor for the US. The point is, he was my friend for _me_ and nothing else.

“Do you know how many times he told me I should quit the Avengers? It was a lot.” At those words, eyes in the room had widened, surprise washing over the journalists that James Rhodes, _Colonel_ Rhodes, had advised Iron Man to bow out of the fight. “The Avengers were the exact people that Rhodey wasn’t – my ‘friends’ for convenience alone, but I didn’t see that. Rhodey could see what I couldn’t, and he advised me against staying with them. I wanted to be a hero; he said I already was, with or without them. I thought I could make the world better; he said I didn’t need the suit for that. I told him I needed to stay because I couldn’t protect people on my own; he said I’d done enough, that maybe it was time to put Iron Man away for my own health and happiness. He cared about me, and he could tell that being an Avenger was hurting me, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself.

“So don’t try to use the memory of one of the only people who has ever cared about _me_ as a way to manipulate me, because, not only will it not work, I will rip you and your career to shreds.” The woman had looked absolutely terrified now, and Tony had idly thought to himself that villains should really look into delivering their threats in a tone completely empty and flat, if this was the response that elicited.

But he wasn’t quite done yet. “And as for the rest of your question, I feel no obligation to reassume Iron Man for a world that is, as you put it, ‘begging me to come back and defend it.’ This world that you’re talking about crucified me and hated me for doing my best to defend it and follow its wishes. And now you crucify me and hate me again for _not_ doing so. So if you’re going to hate me either way, well - ” And he had shrugged, knowing that he looked worn and weary as he’d said very simply, “I’m tired of fighting. I’d rather invent. So no. No, I won’t put the Iron Man suit back on because you’ve changed your minds again. I’m done.” And then he’d stood up and left. 

Pepper had been furious, yelling at him that he was ruining his own reputation and that she was sick of putting out his fires. He’d been sorry that she was going to have extra work, separating the public image of SI and Tony Stark to avoid too much public fallout. But that had been all he was sorry for. He hadn’t had a single fuck left to give about his reputation.

The world had gone into a frenzy at his words. Some were scathing, spouting about how he _owed_ them and how he was being selfish or egotistical or petty (if Tony had been able to laugh, he’d have laughed that they thought he cared enough anymore about _anything_ to be petty towards them). Others were scared, worried about new threats that could pop up and wondering who would protect them with the Avengers on the run and Iron Man refusing to come out (these were the ones that actually managed to tempt Tony to pull the suit back out, to offer reassurance that they would be okay – but the moniker Bruce had given him, Tin Man, had come true; his heart was missing, and he didn’t have it in him to pull the suit back out). And some were actually on _his_ side, which had baffled Tony; they’d pointed at the logic behind Tony’s words and said that _no one_ was obligated to risk their life for other people, that Tony was perfectly within his rights to decide that he’d had _enough_. 

Tony had heard some of the discussion, but he had mostly ignored it, moving back to Malibu – as far away from the things that reminded him of the Avengers and Rogers as possible – and working to try to distract himself from how little impact anything had on him anymore. Tin Man indeed.

Nearly two years had passed in that fashion, and he’d healed a little every day, but he’d done it alone. He’d asked Happy to stay with Pepper in New York to run the company, and Pepper had reached out to him mostly for work-related business. She blamed him for Rhodey’s death, Tony had known. He hadn’t pushed it. He blamed himself, too, after all.

The other Tony’s memories and emotions faded in intensity as they integrated with Tony’s own, settling in and making themselves available for Tony to reference if necessary. He pushed himself out of the bed and stretched, joints popping; this Tony didn’t seem to be in the best condition, which didn’t surprise him. He wondered how often this Tony remembered and cared enough to feed himself. 

“FRI, give me a rundown of the highlights in the news, will you?” he requested, wandering out of his bedroom and making for the kitchen. It was definitely coffee time.

He listened absently as FRIDAY summarized important points, humming distractedly and letting his mind flit elsewhere as he sipped scalding coffee once he realized there had essentially been no developments, according to comparisons with his counterpart’s recent memories.

Which, considering that recent memories held some pretty significant events, that could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Because Bruce, Thor, and Loki had returned last week, and the other Tony had guessed from the tense discussions on TV that the news they’d brought wasn’t good. And so the world had decided to forgive Team Cap if it meant that they could feel safe again, and the Avengers had returned. Tony had sold the Compound to the Accords council after he’d retired, so he assumed they’d moved back in there. 

He was fervently glad he was in Malibu.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be enough to protect him.

“Boss, Dr. Banner is at the door,” FRIDAY announced, her voice tense and unhappy. Tony blinked.

“What does he want?” he asked finally, thinking he probably knew the answer to that but hoping futilely that he was wrong.

“He says he wishes to talk to you.”

Tony thought for a moment, then mentally shrugged. May as well get it over with. “Tell him I’ll be upstairs in a moment.”

There was a pause while FRIDAY relayed the message. “He says he can meet you in the lab if you would like.”

Tony flinched before he could suppress it. “No. No, he doesn’t get into the lab, FRI, okay?” His voice was panicky, and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to suppress it. This was _his_ space, it was one of the only things he had left, and no one got to invade it again. 

“Of course, Boss,” FRIDAY soothed. “I’ll make sure he stays upstairs.”

Tony nodded, taking a few deep breaths before stepping into the elevator and letting it take him to the first floor. He stepped out, rounding the corner to see Bruce standing by the window, looking out over the ocean and appearing as relaxed and comfortable as Tony had ever seen him.

“Bruce,” Tony greeted, and Bruce turned around, a warm smile on his face that faltered quickly as he took in Tony’s appearance. Tony wondered what he saw; he hadn’t bothered to try to make himself presentable when he’d come upstairs because honestly what did it matter? So he knew he probably looked almost as hollow as he felt, thinner than he’d been, gaunt and empty-eyed, missing his usual smile.

“Tony, it’s good to see you,” Bruce said, dragging his smile back into place and he stepped crossed the room, stepping up as if to give Tony a hug, but Tony took a step back – a small one, but enough for Bruce to take notice and freeze, brow furrowing in concern. He gave Tony a long once over, then looked back up at him. “Tony, I’m so sorry, I heard about you and Steve – and, and Rhodes. I – “

“Why are you here, Bruce?” Tony interrupted, cutting him off, and Bruce was looking more and more like he realized this might not be the reunion he’d envisioned.

“There’s a threat coming our way,” he said earnestly, tone entreating, but Tony just stared at him impassively, so Bruce continued. “Thanos is coming – he’s a monster, he’s the one who sent the Chitauri in New York, and he’s coming here.”

“Why are you here, Bruce?” Tony repeated, and now Bruce just stared at him.

“Because – because he’s _coming_ , Tony,” he said blankly. Tony waited, but that appeared to be all Bruce was going to say.

“Okay. Thanks for the warning, I guess,” he responded finally, and Bruce’s eyebrows raised.

“You – what do you mean? I came to come and get you, to bring you back to the Compound.”

“I’m not a hero, Bruce. I’m retired.” He didn’t say it cruelly or angrily, he just stated it like the fact it was, then turned, as though to walk away.

“Are you serious? Tony, the world is in trouble, and you’re just going to walk away? You’re just going to leave us to it? I get that you’re mad at the team, and I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m sure you have good reason to be. But they’re _coming for us_ \- “

“ _I know_.” Well, would you look at that. Maybe he did have some anger left in him, after all. He spun around, eyes flashing. “I _know_ they’re coming for us. I’ve been saying they would for _years_. And did anyone believe me? Did anyone take me seriously? No. No, you all dismissed me. So you don’t get to _come into my house_ and act like you’re presenting me with some _grand revelation_ and demand that I jump now that _you’ve_ decided it’s time to jump,” he spat, advancing on Bruce until he was poking the other man in the chest, heedless of the danger of provoking the Hulk. Bruce, for his part, just looked stunned.

And then, as quickly as it had come, the anger drained away, and Tony was left feeling empty again as he stepped back. “And you’re wrong,” he said, the hollowness that consumed him like a flesh-eating virus coloring his tone. “I’m not angry at the team. I’m just done.”

He turned away and started to leave the room again. “Tony,” Bruce called softly, pleadingly, but he didn’t turn back.

“Please show yourself out.”

 

But it seemed turning down one Avenger wasn’t enough. Frankly, Tony wasn’t surprised they sent Thor next.

FRIDAY had only had time to give him 30 seconds notice from the moment Thor lightning-landed on his lawn to the moment Thor was knocking on his door. Tony had just sighed tiredly at her announcement of the god’s arrival and saved his progress before heading upstairs.

“Man of Iron! It is good to see you again,” Thor called when Tony met him in the living room. He, like Bruce, stepped forward as if to hug him, and Tony once again stepped back. Thor, though, wasn’t quite as adept at picking up Midgardian body language, and he thundered forward, crushing Tony into a hug.

Mental images of the last time Thor had touched him clawed at his mind, the sensation of being lifted by his throat, seconds from death, not knowing if Thor knew how little effort it took to snap a human’s neck with his strength filling him until his breath was coming quicker in his panic.

“Mr. Odinson, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from Boss.” Tony didn’t think he’d ever heard FRIDAY sound so cold, and he’d have been impressed if he hadn’t been busy fighting with his own mind trying to get his fear under control. Blessedly, Thor set him down, backing away and putting his hands in the air, peering at Tony in a mixture of confusion and concern.

“Son of Stark, are you well?” he asked, worry lacing his tone, and Tony fought with himself, pushing down the fear, bottling it up and locking it away but refusing to answer until he had his breathing under control, knowing from experience that his voice would be embarrassingly revealing if he tried.

“I’m fine. Sorry,” Tony said eventually, smiling stiffly at Thor. “Why don’t you have a seat?” Thor eyed him doubtfully but acquiesced, plopping down onto the couch. Tony followed, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from him, as far as he could get without being unduly obvious that he didn’t want to sit anywhere near the god.

“You do not look well, my friend,” Thor said, his booming voice uncharacteristically grave as he took in Tony’s appearance. Tony carefully didn’t flinch at Thor’s use of the word ‘friend.’

“Thanks,” Tony responded, meaning to convey sarcasm but his voice just coming out flat. Thor looked at him with increasing concern.

“I heard you had a falling out with the Captain.” Tony said nothing, and the god fidgeted, clearly thrown off. “I was sorry to hear of the breaking off of your nuptials. You are both fine warriors. You would have made a good match.” 

Was this how Asgardians offered their condolences? By reminding people of what they’d lost? Tony tried to reign in his uncharitable thoughts, knowing Thor was just trying to offer sympathy as best he could.

“It is what it is,” he responded tonelessly, and the god looked disconcerted but nodded hesitantly.

“Indeed, Man of Iron.”

“What do you want, Thor?” His patience was wearing thin quickly – but honestly, who could blame him when their resident thunder god went poking old wounds? Thor didn’t look too put out with his brusqueness, instead becoming more focused and serious, every inch the warrior prince of legend.

“Thanos approaches, Man of Iron. The Mad Titan is dangerous and intends to destroy half the universe in his quest for balance and power.”

“I know. Bruce told me,” Tony responded, letting the statement hang there. Thor looked at him, seeming to take measure of him in a way Bruce hadn’t.

“You would refuse the call of your Shield Brothers and Sisters?” he asked, and Tony couldn’t help but let out a derisive snort.

“You’re not my Shield Brothers and Sisters,” he stated with the utmost certainty, and Thor shook his head.

“But we are, Son of Stark! We would have you fight alongside us in this battle!” he protested, eyes fiery, and Tony just smiled his sad, empty smile, and Thor drew up short.

“Teammates watch each other’s backs,” he said softly. “I watched yours, but none of you ever watched mine. And the one person I could truly call a Shield Brother is dead because of it. I won’t fight with you.”

 

“Boss, we have a spider infestation.”

“Are you _fucking kidding me_?”

Tony was getting seriously tired of having to fend off these self-appointed recruiters. Seriously, Fury had acted like he was _barely_ an Avenger last time – why were they all up his ass now?

(He knew why. He had money and the best tech. The needed that.)

He stomped upstairs, more than a little irritated; he’d been _so close_ to a breakthrough on a more efficient way to achieve heavy ion fusion that could cut down on production costs and make clean energy more affordable, and now he was having to shove it aside to deal with _this_. _Again_.

Wordlessly, he walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Natasha had made herself right at home, fetching cups and brewing tea like she’d lived here her whole life, and he simply watched in silence. She brought two steaming mugs with her when she finished, holding one out to him. He gritted his teeth, warring with himself, telling himself to just _fucking take the goddamn cup from her_ but capitulating when he realized he was fighting a losing battle. 

“I don’t like to be handed things,” he said – and for a spy, her face was startlingly easy to read for a moment, hurt flashing through quickly before dissolving away. She knew him well enough to know that he would only let people he trusted hand him things; she’d been one of those people. With a minute nod, she set the mug down and then sat, sipping from her own mug.

“Tony,” she started, and weariness overwhelmed him.

“Don’t, Natasha,” he said – pleaded, really, reaching out for his mug and fiddling with the handle, looking at the steam rising off the hot liquid. “Just. Please don’t.” 

Silence fell. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, pain-filled and almost tormented.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

 

 _He_ came last. Tony had known he would come eventually, just as he’d known he wouldn’t have the strength to turn him away.

“You could let me take care of him, Boss,” FRIDAY suggested helpfully, her tone promising vengeance but also somehow _worried_.

“It’s okay, FRI. I’ll handle this, baby girl.”

FRIDAY was silent for a moment as he pushed himself up and made his way to the elevator. “Please don’t go up there, Boss.” Startled, Tony blinked and looked at one of her cameras, raising an eyebrow in question. “The last time you saw him, you…you almost didn’t come home. I don’t want you to go up there.”

Eyes wide, Tony swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat. “He won’t do anything to me, sweetheart,” he promised, knowing it was true. Not because of any faith in Steve’s previous affection for him or what-the-fuck-ever, but because he knew Steve was here to get his help with Thanos and killing him would kind of defeat the purpose. FRIDAY was silent as he got into the elevator, and there was a significant pause before the elevator started to rise. Tony felt a pang in his heart, knowing it was hurting her to follow his orders and hating that he was making her do it. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“You should not be the one apologizing, Boss.” And funnily enough, he believed her.

The elevator let him off, but it wasn’t at the ground floor as he’d been expecting. No, the elevator let him off at the top floor ( _their_ floor, Tony’s traitorous brain whispered), and FRIDAY directed him to their room – _his room, dammit_ – where Tony could see him silhouetted against the ocean, leaning out over the balcony rails. He paused, steeling himself, then opened the door and walked outside, not saying a word or looking over at his ex-fiancé as he leaned over the railing. The ocean roared at them, the waves nearly as tumultuous as he felt, and Tony could tell a storm was coming. 

They stayed like that for a while, and Tony knew Steve was waiting on him to break the silence. He always had in the past; he’d never been one to keep still long, his mind racing too quickly to stay silent, and he’d always been the first one to break when things got too quiet. But this time, he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to have this conversation, and he had started to truly understand that he didn’t owe Steve anything. So he’d enjoy the silence for as long as he could.

But eventually, Steve got tired of waiting. “How are you?” he asked, as though it wasn’t the absolute goddamn stupidest question in the world. But Tony had expected it, knowing Steve would see it as a good question to break the ice, get him talking, show concern without inviting too much vitriol. 

“I’m fine.”

“Good, that’s good.” Silence again, and Tony wondered if Steve was waiting on him to ask after his health. Tony traced the waves with his eyes and waited. After a moment, Steve picked up the conversation again. “I was sorry to hear about – “

“No.” The word was spoken with venom Tony didn’t know he still possessed, and though he didn’t turn to look at the other man, he could feel Steve’s eyes on him.

“Tony, I just wanted to – “

“No. You don’t get to say his name. Not to me. Not ever.”

Clearly realizing he’d hit a sensitive subject (yeah, no fucking kidding, dipshit), Steve backed down. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I know the past two years have been hard. I didn’t mean to, to bring anything up that you didn’t want to talk about.”

A semi-hysterical laugh escaped before Tony could keep it in, and he stared over the white-capping waves wondering how he’d gotten _so fucking lucky_ that this _shitty, awful irony_ was his goddamn life. “Yeah, and you’d know all about what I want to talk about, right, Cap?” he asked, contempt dripping from his tone, and Steve recoiled.

“I – I know you got my letter – I’m _sorry_ , you have to know how sorry I am!”

Was he serious? That shitty apology letter that had been more of a ‘sorry you got mad’ than a ‘sorry that what I did was wrong’? He was really going to reference _that_? God. They’d been _engaged_ , and Steve had done this to him. Steve, a man he’d considered a _hero_ , who had never extended him the same courtesy.

Steve, a man who he was realizing more and more may not be the hero Tony had believed.

Was it even worth arguing the point, then? Steve was pretty clearly not going to give a fuck that his ‘sorry’ was half-assed at best. He’d _apologized_ , after all. 

“Yeah, well. Let me know when your ‘sorry’ fixes anything.”

“I’m _trying_ to fix things, Tony. You’re the one who won’t let me,” Steve said angrily, and Tony turned slowly to look at him. It hurt a little, to see those stupid imperfectly blue eyes that he’d loved so much against the backdrop of a place he’d hoped they’d call home together. Time hadn’t changed him, thanks to that super soldier serum, and he looked exactly as he had when they’d last kissed, when they’d last made love, when he’d been hovering over Tony with his shield in hand looking for all the world like he meant to bring it down on his grieving fiancé’s head.

His anger drained away, the terrible emptiness taking root once again.

“Why should I?” Tony asked, and his voice held none of the fury he’d felt. No, instead the question came out blank, vacant, rhetorical in its lack of interest, and Steve jerked.

“What – what do you mean?”

“Why should I let you fix things?”

Steve stared at him, truly caught off-guard now, fumbling and trying to pick up where Tony’s train of thought had led him. He didn’t seem to realize it was to a dead end. “Because – because Thanos is coming. And we have to protect everyone. We’re a team, we’re _heroes_ , it’s our _job_ to get past all of the personal issues for the benefit of everyone else.”

Tony just smiled, and Steve flinched at how devoid of _anything_ the expression was. “We’re not a team,” he said softly. “And you’ve never considered me a hero.”

 

When the Avengers stepped onto the battlefield, they were too late. Thanos had come, touching down outside the Compound where Vision had been sparring with Wanda. Dr. Strange had already fallen, the Time stone gleaming green in the gauntlet when Thanos ripped the Mind stone from Vision’s forehead, and the android fell, body blackening as he hit the bright summer grass. 

Wanda’s screams were audible throughout the Compound, and the rest of the Avengers sprinted out, weapons drawn and ready as they prepared to face down a being they’d been told was near-unbeatable _months_ before their projected arrival date. He’d chuckled at the team lined up before him, snapping his fingers – the team holding their breaths, eyes wide and terrified that he’d done exactly what he’d set out to do, but no – he’d just opened portals above their world, the nightmarish creatures from the Battle of New York descending into their world once again. 

“Your race is _irritating_ ,” Thanos sneered. “I try not to let my conquests get personal, but I will enjoy watching this world burn.”

“I do not disagree, but how is it that you know? What humans have you encountered?” Loki drawled, appearing entirely too relaxed for someone who had been previously held and tortured by the Titan. Thor elbowed his brother, and Thanos scowled.

“The stones speak of nothing else but a Midgardian. I grow weary of listening to their drivel,” he growled, eyes (and gauntlet) flashing. Loki and Thor both wore identical expressions of confusion, though the rest of the team appeared unsurprised – of course, that was likely because they had no frame of reference for normal mystical stone behavior. With a wave of a gauntleted hand, each of the heroes was encased in a firm cocoon of rock, only their heads peeking out the top. Thanos paced closer, his anger clear on his face. “Now, you will tell me – which of you is Tony Stark?”

“That would be me.”

In the end, it had never been a question of _if_ he would show up. If the Avengers had paid attention, they’d have heard it: he’d never said no to stopping Thanos, he’d said no to being their teammate. He would not be an Avenger, he would not be at the beck and call of a fickle world anymore, not when there were others who could protect them – but he _would_ keep that world safe when it mattered. He _would_ step in when he was truly needed. Because he may be hurt, tired, beaten down to the point of wanting to give up, but he would be there when people needed him.

Whirling around, Thanos smiled like a predator sighting its prey at the man standing in the middle of the lawn, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the Titan. Behind Thanos, Tony’s ex-teammates were panicking.

“Tony!”

“Where’s your armor?”

“Stark, you need the suit!”

“You’re going to get killed!”

But Tony ignored him, calmly focused on the being in front of him.

“Tony Stark.” Thanos’s voice caressed Tony’s name like aa lover. “We meet at last. I admit I was expecting the one the stones spoke of to be a bit more… _impressive_.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d be taller, Grapefruit, so I guess we’re both gonna have to live with our disappointments,” Tony said flippantly, and Thanos smiled dangerously.

“Oh no, Stark. You won’t be living much longer.”

“Maybe,” Tony allowed, unmoved. “But I suspect I’ll be living longer than you.”

The Titan laughed. “The stones said you were _smart_! I did not think they could be wrong, but apparently even they are not infallible.” With a feral grin, Thanos raised the gauntlet, aiming it at Tony as the Avengers screamed his name, and – nothing happened. Wide-eyed, Thanos stared at the gauntlet, shaking his hand as though he expected that to work, and tried again.

“I feel like I should say something about performance issues,” Tony quipped, raising an eyebrow in Loki’s direction, and Thanos snarled, looking up to the sky and giving some sort of signal. A handful of the one-manned ships headed their way. “Ah,” Tony said. “A back-up plan. Smart. I have a plan of my own, though.”

And with that, he stretched out a hand, extending the hopes and dreams and desires he thought had vanished in the past two years (or, well, few months that he had spent as this Tony, but honestly, it came to the same thing), and the gauntlet dissolved from Thanos’s wrist, reforming itself around Tony’s.

Shock, fury, and fear warred for dominance in the Titan’s eyes, and he howled. “You cannot do this! I am Thanos, the destroyer of worlds!”

Tony smiled, small but firm. “I’m Tony Stark, and I’m a hero.” And he snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry the ending is cheesy af but i reiterate??? bad week??? I needed the happy ending.
> 
> don’t @ me about heavy ion fusion, I just remembered them referencing it in the Avengers movie. I’m a medical science person, not a science science person.
> 
> Is there a balcony on Tony’s Malibu mansion? No. Did I make one for dramatic purposes (and also bc that’s the way the scene originally played out in my mind and I get easily attached to things)? Hell yeah, I did.
> 
> Again!! Sorry for the heavy character bashing - CACW brings out my petty side. I'm probs gonna end up torrenting Endgame again sometime this next week, so there will likely be more Stony in the very near future <33
> 
> Side note – I’ll probably end up making this chapter 2 just so the first chapter in this outtakes fic isn’t so damn depressing, so if y’all come back for more of this, just know that the chapter order might get switched!!


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